Violetta loved the old school, even though most of her peers said it was strange and a bit creepy. The building was full of nooks and crannies, creaking staircases and tall windows through which coloured patches of light streamed in. The biggest curiosity, however, was the forbidden storeroom under the stairs, which only teachers had access to. At least officially. One cloudy afternoon, as the wind was knocking leaves off the maple trees in the schoolyard, Violetta was walking down the corridor with Felix, her best friend. Felix was always up for an adventure, even if it meant being late for maths class. They had just passed the door to the storeroom when Violetta noticed something unusual. There was a pale, purple light coming from under the door, as if someone had spilled paint on the floor. - Do you see it, Felix? - she whispered. - 'Sure. But I don't think we should look in there... - he replied, but there was a flash of excitement in his eyes. They couldn't help themselves. Violetta carefully pressed the handle. The door was not locked, although they had always heard that it was. Everything inside looked like an average warehouse: stacks of notebooks, old maps, forgotten boxes. But the light led them deeper, through a pile of old books, to the back wall. There, behind a dusty bookcase, they discovered a small circular door. It was decorated with spiral patterns that could not be fully deciphered. Wioletta put her hand on the handle - it became as quiet as ever. Suddenly, the bookcase moved on its own, as if something had pushed it from inside. Felix took a step back, but Wioletta held on bravely. - Maybe... we should go back? - whispered Felix. Wioletta looked at her friend and smiled broadly. Before he had time to reply, she gently pushed open the door. The air was filled with the smell of old parchment and... something else. Something they had never smelled before. Behind the door, a hidden chamber awaited. On the walls were swirling poems written in luminous letters, and in the middle of the room, on an antique desktop, lay a closed book. As Violetta took her first step inside, the poems on the walls began to move and whisper her name. The book gently glowed with a silvery radiance. Felix grabbed her hand. - 'Violetta... something's going on...' Then one of the poems broke away from the wall and began to float in the air, circling them like an enchanted butterfly. A whisper grew louder and louder from the pulpit book....